


Blood Paint

by Remember_Ember



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Blood, Death, M/M, Suicide, Violence, paint, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remember_Ember/pseuds/Remember_Ember
Summary: "B-but you are here... you left this for me... We-we can be together. Forever. It will be our final masterpiece... Your final masterpiece..."He pressed the gun to his temple, hand shaking ever so slightly. Tears ran down his face and he turned from the canvas so his life blood would fall upon it. Tears streamed down his face as he squeezed the trigger....TRIGGER WARNINGS: Major Character Death, Depictions of Suicide





	Blood Paint

Jack felt tears falling as he surveyed the room. He hadn't wanted this to happen. He hadn't meant for things to get this bad. He swallowed around the lump in his throat with a grimace as his eyes trailed across the familiar room.

It was _his_ room. His paintings were still hanging on the wall, his collection of small plushes still sat on his desk. His laptop was closed next to a pile of neatly stacked papers. The room was filled with colors of sunsets and summer days, greens, and reds. Blues and pinks.

And yet to Jack, it was all dull.

The blood had been cleaned up at this point, what had stained the floor and walls had been wiped away. The stench of cleaning products still stuck to every surface of the room. He couldn't help but feel bad.

Mrs. Fischbach must have done so much as she cleaned her son's brains and blood off the walls. Jack shook his head a little as his gaze traveled fondly over the paintings in the room, remembering the stories he'd been told of each one.

On the far end of the room was a child's drawing, one of a fantastical pastel colored land. There were five people in the young child's painting. A taller figure with white hair and a mustache, Daddy written beneath it. Next to the father was a woman that had the title 'step-mommy'. Next to her was another boy, with dark hair and a blue shirt. The name beneath him read 'Tom'. Then there was a woman with long dark hair and a big smile. This one was 'Mommy'.

And in the center of this child-like art, was a young boy with big brown eyes. 'Me' was written beneath him. Mark's name could be easily seen, scrawled in his young handwriting, very big in black, choppy letters.

Mark had told him that was one of his first paintings, he'd made it when he was six years old after moving in with his mom.

Next to that painting was one of the lonely tree that sat outside his window. And the lone tire swing that hung from it. He said it signified his loneliness.

Another brighter, painting, showed a summer's day in a field of flowers. He said that one was for one of the first times they'd hung out. They played in a nearby field and made each other some sloppy flower crowns.

And yet another painting was filled with the fiery colors of a sunrise. He said it reminded him of his father, who would once upon a time take him out in the early mornings during the summer and show him the 'beauties of the world'. Their favorite had been watching sunrises.

There were also portraits, of himself, of friends, of Jack, of family, that decorated an entire wall, many were of the same people, growing older or during a momentous occasion in their life.

He swallowed as his gaze fell upon the final canvas in the room. It was still resting upon its easel, unfinished. It was meant for him. Mark had told him when he'd first found the blank canvas, surrounded by many different colors of paints, in his room.

Mark was apparently going to use it as their second-year anniversary gift. He wanted to paint his love for Jack, but he said he was unable to find the right way of doing it at the time. So he decided he'd work on it when he found the right way of doing it. The canvas still continued to sit blank for months on the easel. Constantly being put back once he was done with whatever project he'd been working on.

He felt the tears return as he shakily lifted his hand to the canvas. It was no longer blank, for the first time, the canvas picked to paint his love for Sean Mcloughlin had color. He let out a loud cry of anguish as his knees gave out. He fell with a dull thud to his knees and sobbed.

His head was buried in his hands.

There would have been no way for Mark to ever complete this painting in his life. He'd told him this multiple times. That his love was just... unpaintable. There was so much he would never be able to fit it onto the canvas. So he'd leave it blank and stare at it to remember this. Nevertheless, he'd try, and always 'failed' to paint.

And now... now it was no longer blank. It held one color, sprayed across it like a blooming flower. A small hole pierced through the top of it, creating a focal point one could not miss. A pained laugh bubbled up in his throat as he lifted his head. His eyes trailed over the canvas through watery eyes.

"O-of course, you'd ha-ave to do this... Y-you thought you'd never sh-show me in li-ife. So ins-instead you show me in death," he said through his dry chuckles. He shook his head and stood on his shaky legs, stumbling a bit. He lifted his head to the ceiling.

"Of course you would fucking do this to me! You couldn't just stay here! You had to fucking leave me alone! WHY DIDN'T YOU STAY WITH ME! YOU PROMISED ME FOREVER! YOU PROMISED! YOU SAID YOU'D ALWAYS BE WITH ME YOU FUCKER, WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?! WE WERE GOING TO BE HAPPY! WE WERE GOING TO LIVE TOGETHER AND GET MARRIED AND HAVE KIDS YOU BASTARD! WHY DID YOU FUCKING LEAVE?"

He sobbed loudly and stumbled backward, away from the canvas. His vision blurred from tears as he continued to mumble, "You promised... why'd you leave me... you promised..." over and over and over. He fell down once more and stared. Then he smiled.

"B-but you are here... you left this for me... We-we can be together. Forever. It will be our final masterpiece... Your final masterpiece..." he mumbled lifting himself up off the ground. He made his way to Mark's closet, searching.

"Where d'you keep the other one? I know you have more than one Marki," he said, pushing clothes and boxes aside in his search. He smiled proudly when he found it. Mark's _other_ gun. He brought himself back to the canvas and smiled slowly.

His eyes scanned the room slowly, like a final goodbye. They landed on an exact-o knife on the desk and he had an idea. He grabbed it, moving back in front of the canvas, and then looked down to his arm. He pressed the blade into his skin with a small noise of pain.

He made sure to dug deep, he needed enough to do this... then, he placed the knife down, back on the desk. He watched for a few moments, fascinated by the way the blood pooled along his arm and dripped slowly down it.

His fingers were quickly pressed into the cut, scooping blood and lifting it to the canvas. He added his own touch, his hand drawing a shaky outline of the simple shape. The simple shape that meant so much to him, to _them_.

He stepped back to admire his work, and then he picked up the gun once more. Tears clouded his vision and a smile stretched across his face. His eyes were wide, and if someone were to look into them at that exact moment... they would find them broken, shattered like glass, but filled with an insane kind of joy.

He then pressed the gun to his temple, hand shaking ever so slightly. Tears ran down his face and he turned from the canvas so his life blood would fall upon it. Tears streamed down his face as he squeezed the trigger. _I'm coming, Mark..._

His cold body was found hours later when Mrs. Fischbach arrived home.

Mark's final painting lay behind him, it's red colors mixing to create a beautiful spray, shaky outlines of a heart drawn with someone's fingers long dried. The image was pierced through at the top with one hole, and through the bottom with another.

And in the end, Mark and Sean were still together, blood mixing to become one.


End file.
